


Everything

by ariapassionflower01



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariapassionflower01/pseuds/ariapassionflower01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill and Tom get into a fight that threatens their relationship, both sexually and brotherly. Can Bill break down his twin's barriers? Will Tom let him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything

**Author's Note:**

> The title is inspired by the beautiful song "Everything" by the band Lifehouse. It gives me chills everytime and makes me think about my own twin and my two favorite German boys:) And I know, I know! I wrote a teen rated story. Nobody fall over dead

The fight was horrible.   
There was a broken glass in the kitchen where it had started. A few of the picture frames in the hallway were lying cracked on the floor. In the bedroom, the sheets were torn from the bed, a chair was tipped over and one of the standing lamps lay in two pieces on the floor.   
From the doorway, Bill surveyed the destruction. He leaned against the doorframe, both of his hands lifted to his face, his red, watery eyes barely seen over the tips of his gunmetal gray acryillics. A few tears slipped from his eyes, mussing his makeup even further. He sniffed, before a loud sob burst from his lips, barely muffled by his fingers. He slid down against the doorframe until he was sitting, his shoulders shaking as he viewed the room, now blurry in his vision. He wanted to scream, cry, curse, kick the door, anything to release his anger. But he knew there was only one place where he could justifiably aim his anger – himself.   
Come back, Tomi, please... He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his arms, not bothering to keep back the deluge of tears now. What was the point? There was no one there to laugh at him, tease him, degrade him.... Neither was there anyone their to pick him back up on his feet and wipe away the tears, tell him in that soothing manner that it would all be okay.   
Bill lifted his head and pushed himself off the ground. He stumbled down the stairs, blinking tears out of his eyes as he searched for his phone. He'd had it on him right before-.... Bill stopped his train of thought and searched about the kitchen. He eventually found the phone sitting under the edge of the island counter, screen down. He picked it up, wondering if it was broken. He was half-surprised to still find it in working condition, unlike everything else in the damned house.   
Bill's fingers shook as he went to his recent contacts, quickly finding Tom's name at the top of the list. He tapped on his brother, who was listed only as Tomi and held the phone to his ear. He bit nervously at his lip, played with the bar through his tongue, clenching first the silver ball on top between his teeth, then the bottom one. He listened to the phone ring over and over. At last, the phone's automated voice told him that the person he was trying to reaching was not available. Please leave a message after the beep. Bill drew in a deep shuddering breath, nearly back on the brink of tears at the outright denial. Even a stupid answering machine was telling him he couldn't talk to Tom. The phone beeped loudly and Bill breathed in again and hesitated only once before speaking.

~

His phone was vibrating. Tom could feel the stupid little machine buzzing over and over again in his pocket. He knew who it was. He just wasn't sure whether he wanted to talk to Bill right now or not.  
Tom was surprised when the phone only went off once. Afterwards, it was silent. Bill was not the kind of person who gave up after one try. What have I done to him? Tom thought. He resisted the urge to pull his phone out of his pocket. He'll call again, right? He has to...  
Tom felt the car pull to a stop and shouldered the door open. The security followed him, hovering like a persistent cloud of gnats. Tom wanted to shoo them away, but he couldn't. They followed him up to the entrance of the hotel, all the way to the desk, stayed there with him as he went through the steps of getting a room. For Tom, it was the most embarrassing process ever. He knew that the receptionist had no idea why he was here, but Tom knew, and it was driving him crazy.   
He rode the elevator up to his room and opened the door with the card. He slammed the door shut, thankful to be alone at last. He didn't bother to turn on the lights. He just dropped onto the bed on his back and stared at the ceiling.   
The phone... Bill hasn't called again...Tom gave a growl under his breath and reached down to pull the cell out of his pocket. The LED screen was bright in the darkness of the room and he squinted. The phone informed him he had one new voicemail. Fingers beginning to shake, Tom pressed on it and lifted the phone to his ear.   
At first there was silence, then a breath. At last, Bill's voice, soft and tearful. “Tomi... I'm sorry... please, come home, please...” Another pause, and then even quieter than before, “I didn't mean it. You know I didn't.”   
Tom threw a hand over his face, biting hard at his lip. How could he resist Bill when he sounded so sad and helpless? Tom supposed it was better that he had ignored the phonecall. He might be back at the house by now if he had actually talked to Bill.   
“Bill...” Tom whispered softly, although he knew Bill couldn't answer him. The phone clicked, signaling the end of the message. Cursing softly, Tom played it again, listening to his brother's tear-laden voice, the soft sniffs at the end. Tom could only imagine his little twin now, curled up on the sofa with a box of tissues, and one of the dogs, crying his heart out for Tom, who just wouldn't forgive him.   
It was your fault in the first place, you asshole. Tom told himself, harshly. He was the one who was always worried about not getting caught, keeping up his persona as the womanizer. He was always the one pushing Bill away when he thought it was too dangerous. He was the one smacked Bill's hand when he got too close. Bill just happened to be the one who snapped first.   
Tom rolled onto his side and clutched the phone in hand, playing the voicemail just one more time...

~

Bill knew there were ways of finding out where Tom had gone too. They had the same damn security for God's sakes. Bill just didn't know if he wanted to go to that level. He wanted this to stay between them. He wanted Tom to come home on his own.  
Bill spent the night on the couch, unable to bring himself to sleep in the bed that he and Tom shared. He couldn't even make himself go to “his” room. It was really just a closet that held all his clothes, shoes, accessories, makeup and so on. There was a bed but he never really slept in it. It was mostly for show.   
Bill found the couch more comforting. He cradled one of the dogs in his arms, imagining that it were Tom and fell asleep with a tear still on his cheek.   
At four in the morning, he woke with a start from a horrid dream. He sat up, sweating and panting, scaring the dog off the couch in a rustle of fur and little legs. The blanket he was using was tangled around his long legs and he pushed it away, sitting up straight on the couch. He tore his t-shirt off as well and sat back, breathing hard.   
As disturbing as the dream had been, he couldn't dwell on it. His mind went to Tom, straight to Tom. For the first time, he allowed himself relive the fight.   
They had been in the kitchen, preparing to go to an interview after breakfast. Bill had been at the sink, having finished first. Tom, who was still at the table, was joking about which girl he was going to say he had banged last. It had been bothering Bill for a while, but for some reason, yesterday had been the day he had snapped. He had spun around, asking Tom why he couldn't just leave it out for once. Why did he have to splay his sexual exploits all over the tabloids? Why did he have to have this obsession with women? Why couldn't he treat Bill better? Why couldn't their twin relationship and their sexual relationship be the same thing? Why did Tom treat it differently? Why did Tom treat him differently during sex? Why, why, why?   
It had all come flooding out at once.   
Then had come the usual response – We can't let people know. Its not right. I'm trying to do what's best for us. We have to think about the band. And no, I don't treat you differently!   
All lines of bullshit in Bill's estimation. And he had told Tom exactly that. And that was the point where they started throwing insults instead of actually arguing about an actual topic. Then punches, instead of insults. Then threats, instead of punches. And then Tom had been gone. Just like that. The interview had been cancelled. Bill didn't know what the lie was, didn't want to know.  
Bill jerked out of the memories. His nose was stinging with tears and he pressed his fingertips against his tear ducts. He drew in a deep breath and reached for his phone again.   
He listened to it ring again, expecting to get the voicemail again. Suddenly, a rough, sleepy voice filled his ear, “Hallo....”   
“Tom?” Bill gasped. Tom's voice was like music to his ears.   
There was silence, bitter silence.   
“Tom?” Bill repeated, not as excited this time. “Tom, please. Are you coming home soon?... I miss you.” He detected a moan on the other side of the phone, before Tom said suddenly,   
“Go back to bed, Bill.” Then he was gone with a harsh click.   
“Tom!” Bill wailed, although he knew his brother couldn't hear him. Feeling tears in his eyes, Bill threw his phone aside and curled back up on the couch. One of the dogs crawled up next to him, and he buried his face in the soft fur.  
He wished he could take back everything he had said. He wished it would just go back to how it was before. He just wished Tom would come home.

~

Tom thought he would go crazy if he had to endure another day of solitude because this one was shaping up to be very shitty and it was only three in the afternoon. That was early for Tom. He wished that he could sleep all day as he usually could, but the turmoil in his brain was enough to keep him awake, especially after that midnight phone call from Bill.   
Tom's heart had lifted at the sound of his baby brother's voice, but his pride had kept him from falling apart. Secretly, he had wanted to tell Bill this was all his fault. He wanted to say that he wanted to come home; he wished Bill would come get him from this self-induced purgatory. But he couldn't. He just couldn't.   
Tom went out and bought a new gaming system that he hooked up to the hotel's TV. He played the afternoon away, brutally blowing away the opponents. The violence didn't to seem to ease the pain and anger in his heart. He knew only one thing could do that, and it was only a few miles away, waiting for him to return.   
Tom knew that Bill was past the fight. Way past it. He had already forgiven Tom, but for some reason Tom could not screw up the courage to go back. Maybe it was because Bill was right. He did treat him differently. Tom really did love Bill, more than anyone else, in every way. But Tom had always felt he needed to shield he and Bill from getting hurt. Their kind of relationship was far from conventional. It was more close to taboo and Tom tried not to get in too deep, even as he needed Bill on a very close, emotional and physical level. Couldn't Bill understand his fear?  
Tom blasted through nearly every level of the game until it was nine o' clock at night. He found himself wishing it was bedtime so he could go back to sleep and not have to think about it.  
He was just shutting down the gaming system when there was a soft knock on the door. Tom froze. Instinctively, he knew who was behind that door. He could feel it like a magnetic force, pulling him towards.   
Tom ventured towards the door, looked through the peephole. He drew back, biting at his lip, running his tongue over the ring there. There was another knock, and Tom wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and grabbed the doorknob. When he pulled his open, Bill was looking at his feet. His eyes lifted when the door opened. His irises were a soft amber brown color, wide and unpainted. His hair was down, appearing soft around his round face and shoulders.   
“Bill.” Tom said, thinking he sounded scared shitless. “How did you find me?”  
Bill shrugged, a sad smile pulling at his lips, “It wasn't so hard.” His lips quickly fell back into the pale line, “Can I come in?”  
Tom swallowed hard, but backed up, allowing Bill space to come in. He shut the door behind them and there was silence for a moment.   
“I came to get you.” Bill said at last.  
“I'm not-” Tom began.  
“Stop.” Bill said, turning around to face him. “Listen to me,” He pleaded. “I forgive you... for everything. I don't care if you change how we've been...” He struggled for a moment, before saying, hurridedly, “doing things. I just want it to go back to normal. I want you back.”  
Tom stared at him for a moment. What was he supposed to say when Bill said things like that?  
Bill hurried back over to him, grabbing Tom's hands. “Please.” He whispered, looking at Tom with those wide, hopeful eyes.  
Tom sighed, looking down at his feet. “I was wrong, Billy.” He said, rubbing a thumb over the back of Bill's hand. “You're right. I was treating you differently, but its only because I don't want either of us to get hurt. Especially you.” Tom confessed, glancing back up at Bill.   
“Tom,” Bill whispered, “You don't have to worry about that. I'm with you 100%, no matter what we do, or where we go. I will always want to be with you. I will be with you even if we get discovered and the whole world ostracizes us. I'll be there with you.” He repeated one last time, as if in assurance.  
Tom felt tears in his eyes, tried to fight them back, but Bill was just too good, too sweet to him.  
“What would I do without you?” He asked, pulling Bill to him. He felt those soft, assuring arms around him, the soft head at his chest.   
“I know I would die without you.” Bill replied in a murmur.   
Tom pulled him to the bed and they laid down, cuddling close.  
When Tom's fingers ventured beneath Bill's shirt, Bill compliantly rolled onto his back, let Tom strip him down to his skin. When he shyly held up the lube, he'd been hiding in his pocket, that was when Tom knew that Bill really had come to get him. When Tom cradled him against his chest, connected them in the deepest, most personal way, Tom knew he never wanted to let go again. Bill was and always would be his twin, his best friend, his lover, his everything...


End file.
